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Repede lifted his head from Flynn’s lap, ears perked at the door, and a second later Flynn heard Yuri’s key in the lock. “Hey, Flynn! I brought you a present!”
“Is that from the old bakery? They’re still there?” Flynn shifted Repede’s forequarters onto the sofa and came over, inspecting the white, string-wrapped boxes.
“That bakery’s been there for a hundred years. They’re not gonna disappear just cause you haven’t been in a while.” Yuri cut the string on the larger box and liberated a cream doughnut, then retreated to let Flynn examine the spoils.
“You got butter cake! Yuri, you do love me.”
Yuri laughed. “People’s grandmothers buy that cake, Flynn. What’s that say about you?”
“I have refined and classic taste.” Yuri choked and snorted powdered sugar up his nose. “No one said you had to have any.” While Yuri coughed, still laughing, a long blue nose snaked out from under the table and engulfed his doughnut.
Sauce was collecting in the bottom of the tray, where Flynn had cut into the cake. Yuri dipped a finger in it, and sucked it clean. “Oops, I touched it. Guess you’ll have to share.”
Flynn angled around Yuri to reach the silverware drawer, hips flush with Yuri’s backside. “As if I haven’t licked a lot worse than your finger.”
“Oho, you’re on a roll today!” Yuri twisted, trapping Flynn against the counter. “I should have gotten éclairs.”
Flynn knew exactly how Yuri ate éclairs. It involved lots of tongue. He wrapped an arm around Yuri’s neck and pulled him in. “You can always practice.”